


Love Your Wings

by WatchOverYourAssButt



Series: Woya's Ficlets [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Established, Ficlet, Humor, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchOverYourAssButt/pseuds/WatchOverYourAssButt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this bit of fanart https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t34.0-12/13414592_1073977759329827_2063115112_n.jpg?oh=e699af50bdc1dbe3ee045096e5d5b35b&oe=57615F24<br/>Just some short fun.</p><p>Happy Birthday Heather!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Your Wings

 

Wings.  
They were still a little new.

 

Dean and Castiel, after some ‘encouragement’ from Sam who just wanted them to get their heads out of their asses, had finally made things official between one another. Why it was described (by Sam) as ‘finally making things official’ rather than just ‘finally getting together’ was because he’d seen enough sexual, emotional, and physical tension between the two of them for too many years now and all they were lacking were the titles and more direct intimacy, really.

It had been a frustrating event, making them finally see what was in front of them and to get them to let go of their hold-backs, but he was proud to say it was achieved nonetheless.

Since getting together (‘getting together’ mainly consisting of no longer containing their prolonged looks or lingering touches, and bringing on almost too many jokes and insinuations and gag-worthy shows of affection for Sam’s liking), the two had fared normal, honestly. There wasn’t too much of a shift in their relationship beyond parts of it being a bit more open, because honestly, they were still Dean and Cas. No respect for personal space, loyal, considerate, sometimes the only person to understand the other. As well as tending to be the single person they wanted wrangle in frustration.

But they had gotten closer, and Sam was honestly happy to see they were opening up in ways they hadn’t since knowing each other. Honestly, at least from Dean’s end, it was a big step up for him period. Sure, things he still locked away and kept close, but there were parts of himself that he was growing more and more willing to let Castiel hold. Because he wanted him to, it seemed, which was such a risk and triumph for the hunter.

And unbeknownst how deeply to Sam, Castiel had opened up as well. Some chats and conversations he was witness to, but not all. He hadn’t heard about the beauty of the angels, and wasn’t left with a conflicting wonder at the beings he so adamantly claimed that, his partner aside, were absolute dicks or just straight up drones. No, Sam hadn’t. Instead, Dean was left to imagine what Castiel described as a limitless form to certain degrees, holding a near-concrete one in true form with multiple heads and limbs, and a more free form that he damn-near imagined as galaxies. He’d wondered if those blues eyes he’d witnessed when Castiel had held such hefty power was the same color of his galaxy-like form.

Sam hadn’t been told as many stories of what once was, either, at least not by Castiel. And even when Dean whined about how long and detailed it was, Sam could tell that Dean honestly had felt such deep fascination, and perhaps some humility. It wasn’t a surprise; hearing about events so far back, so profound, from a divine being would make anyone feel a bit insignificant.

But one of the more significant things Castiel had chosen to share with Dean was one of the purest and most sacred parts of himself; his wings. Dean had asked about them once, and Castiel described to him how they worked, how Dean had only ever just witnessed their shadows and not their tangible shape, and how he could actually manage to make them tangible. Dean could barely make sense of most of it, but what mattered most was the fact Castiel had admitted their tangible form could actually be witnessed by Dean without the whole, you know, loss of vision or very possible loss of his eyes altogether.

He’d urged Castiel to show them to him, and though Castiel seemed apprehensive, perhaps even shy about them, he’d complied with Dean’s wishes.

Well, then Dean couldn’t stop talking about them. Even to Sam, who had heard what they looked like ten times now.

“I mean, fuck, they’re awesome! Black, silken almost, but…iridescent, too, and they’re huge, I mean,” he laughed, and Sam wanted to roll his eyes at the suggested tone of the laugh as Dean reiterated, “HUGE, man. You can’t even imagine.”

“You’re right, I can’t. Want to show them to me?” Sam asked with a raised brow, knowing the answer and also knowing it would make Dean calm down with his damn-near fan-boying over his boyfriend.

Dean had immediately went on the defensive, sitting up straight and making a face. “No! He…he doesn’t like showing them, a lot.” He tried to excuse, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sam could only laugh at the somewhat possessive, petty little need to keep the wings private. It was actually cute. They were ridiculous. “Then chill out, man, I’m doing research.”

Well, with that, Dean did chill. Mostly. He gushed less to Sam, but that did not curb his enjoyment, fascination, and adoration of them. Castiel was getting more comfortable showing them to Dean, and the hunter was pretty sure Castiel was gaining a deep pride in them, because he was getting cockier in showing them off.

First, it was just little shows, then he would pull them out to be tended to. One evening, they’d even went out, to show them off in the daylight, even if they found a secluded space where the only eyes to witness them would be their own.

It was becoming obsessive, of course. Dean wanted to see them, see that part of Castiel beyond that vessel that was, yes, now his own. But those wings, they were TRULY him, truly the angel Dean hadn’t been able to prevent himself from loving, no matter how he might’ve originally tried.

 

It was after a grueling hunting experience that he just got ridiculous with it. Dean just needed a distraction. Some beers, a goofy movie, and some talking with Sam and Castiel left him in a nicely distracted and near-blissful state. Not exactly because he was so drunk, he was just barely past tipsy, but he was determined to feel good.

Which of course, eventually, resulted in him asking to see Castiel’s wings.

Sam had gone to bed, and they had the TV room to themselves, and Dean immediately started pleading playfully for them.

“Come on, Cas, please? Sam went to bed, I just wanna see’em for a little bit?” he asked.

Castiel sighed, shaking his head and looking to Dean, fighting a small smile of affection. Sometimes he felt Dean’s reactions to them were undeserving, but that couldn’t prevent the pride and ego it stroked when Dean gave them attention. And it felt like one of their most personal shares, as well. Especially when Dean would touch them. He’d touched every inch of Dean, even his very soul, but all Dean had ever touched before was his (now owned) vessel. When he ran his fingers through Castiel’s feathers, over the muscle, he was touching Castiel himself. And it felt good, right.

“If you want them so badly.” Castiel remarked, still faintly smiling, that smile that showed he was satisfied or pleased.

There was a shudder of air as they practically materialized, stretching open as they did so. Castiel faced Dean on the couch as he let them open wide in the decent amount of space they had here. He didn’t look at his own wings bashfully as he had before. No, instead, he watched Dean.

He watched how the smile spread across his face, just the joy at the sight of Castiel’s wings. It did things to the angel that it shouldn’t, bubbling warmth in his chest and stomach as Dean’s eyes seemed to shine with adoration and fascination.

“What’s it like flying with them?” Dean asked, almost offhand, as he reached for one, Castiel bringing that wing to meet Dean’s waiting and eager hand. The feathers shook and ruffled briefly, as they always did when Dean’s tender touch found them.

“Their flight is different from any birds I’ve experienced.” Castiel told him, getting ready to compare, and that’s when Dean’s attention moved from the wings he loved so much, and his eyes shot to Castiel.

“…Experienced?”

“Human vessels are not the only ones an angel may take.” Castiel told him, just realizing he’d never explained this, especially when Dean’s confused facial expression deepened. “Animal’s aren’t as viable and lasting as human vessel can be, and for the tasks we must usually undertake, they’re not always sufficient. But there are animal bloodlines as well as the human ones. The Serpent in the Bible wasn’t as inaccurate as other parts, even if Lucifer had not actually been in the form when he’d done his damage. He preferred that form when going down among the two humans, to witness them and their potential that Father had spoken of.” He explained, though now on the subject of the devil, he went back to the original topic. “But I have held avian vessels, among others. My wings and the wings of my kin work similar, but they hold extra power and strength. The strength of one beat of my wings is worth far more than the beat of a raven or even an eagle. They work at such speeds that the tangible baggage of who or what I’m transporting lessens, that’s how I’m able to travel so fast, and into places that are not warded against me.”

Dean was silent, his hand having stalled the entire time. But eventually, he nodded slowly, and continued petting through Castiel’s feathers as the angel officially answered.

“So, the difference in flight is heavily linked to the speed and power in which they work, but we are still similar.”

Dean just nodded again. “So…when you zap us, we’re…technically flying with you?”

Castiel nodded.

He nodded a last time and gave a sideways smirk. “Awesome.”

His hand fell, though, and Castiel watched it drop, a bit saddened by its absence and he looked to Dean, worried.

And Dean was watching him, still holding that sideways smirk. It grew a bit and Castiel quirked his head.

“What are you thinking about?” Castiel questioned.

“Just thinking about how I’d love to see you fly.” He commented, quirking his head thoughtfully himself. “I bet you’re graceful as hell.” He laughed.

“…I’m assuming you’re saying ‘as hell’ in way of measurement, and not relating to hell.” Castiel remarked, not seeming to like the use of the two words.

Dean just laughed and sighed. “Yeah, Cas, that’s what I mean…” He narrowed his eyes then, and got up.

Castiel watched him stand, confused. “What are you doing?” he started pulling his wings in as he wondered if Dean was about to go get food or something, as they’d finished their snacks some hours ago. They were about to vanish, his wings, for if they were going to the kitchen he did not want Sam to witness them.

But Dean just smirked, and then sat down on the floor. Castiel’s gaze followed him, brows knitting to a degree that, were he human, would surely leave him with a grueling headache.

“Dean, what are you doing?” he questioned again.

“I wanna see you fly.” Dean smiled.

Castiel just stared at him, still sitting. “…That’s somewhat impossible for you, Dean, you wouldn’t be able to perceive the speed in which I flew, whether you were in a single place or flying with me.”

Dean just shrugged. “Stand up.”

“But Dean-”

“Please?” he asked. He knew by now, if he said it just right, especially over the right thing or in the right situation, plea’s hit Castiel deep and were hard to fight. And besides, the angel didn’t even know what he was about to agree to or deny, so he didn’t have enough reason for apprehension.

He hesitated a moment longer, before standing. “You won’t be able to see me, Dean.”

“Say’s you.” He remarked, holding out both of his hands then, palms up and facing Castiel, fingers spread wide.

“Say’s me and logic and-”

“Just take my hands, Cas.” Dean ordered softly.

The angel slowly and confusedly complied, linking his fingers with the hunters, faintly leaning forward to do so. This whole situation was confusing him, from Dean’s adamant assurance that he wanted to see and would see Castiel’s wings, to him sitting on the floor and holding the angels hands for no apparent reason.

“Dean, I don’t understand.” He commented.

“I know.” He smirked, and it was a little too devious for Castiel’s liking, that playful spark in his eye. “Hope you have good balance!” he said, and suddenly Castiel was yanked forward.

He made a yelped noise of surprise, feeling pressure around his hips and stomach and his wings beat and staggered to keep him from falling sideways as he was being held up by Dean’s hands holding his own, and as he looked down, he saw it was Dean’s feet pressing around his hips to hold him up from there as well.

“Dean!” Castiel exclaimed urgently, not exactly unnerved by being off his feet, but more so unnerved by the brief shakiness of Dean’s limbs and this very awkward, unstable position, knowing he could fall at any minute. “What are you doing?” he complained.

“Watching you fly! Shit, dude, is that really how you move your wings? How many obstacles do you fly into like that?” Dean teased, laughing at the sight above him. It was very hilarious, kinda cute in the amusing sight of a panicked angel over him, and fascinating as he really saw the wings work. Sure, it wasn’t REAL flight, but it was as close as he could get. Plus it was hilarious to watch Castiel struggle. “Come on, man, beat those wings!”

“Dean, this—this is ridiculous! I’m going to fall!” Castiel complained, in a very undignified, shaky tone.

Dean just laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, angel, I got ya. Besides, you got your wings, just work’em!”

“This isn’t exactly normal flight, Dean!”

He just continued laughing, smiling at the sight, Castiel so miffed and irritated, flailing above him. It was humorous and yet still fascinating as he watched those wings wiggle and flap about, a few small stray feathers falling out down around them. His feathers were so dark, shimmering in the light, brushing air down upon him. He watched them flapping in uneven and unbalanced motions, how they’d shake in Castiel’s frustration to balance out. And eventually he managed it with a slow and steady flap of his wings, the only lack of stability coming from Dean’s slightly shaking limbs (it had been years since he’d done this with Sammy, and though Dean had been younger, Sam had been, too, and therefor much smaller and lighter. And less pissy).

Dean, somewhat purposefully, dropped his arms a bit, making Castiel dip forward before he raised his arms up again, Castiel flailing for balance briefly, face having gone wide with surprise. Dean just laughed like a child underneath him.

“Dean! This is no longer funny!”

“Y-yeah, it is! You should’ve seen your face!” he laughed harder, even snorted.

Castiel gave a hard beat of his wings, hard enough for them to whack Dean’s arms and sides, and finally, his limbs gave and he did his best to catch Castiel as the angel fell down upon him. His hands caught his shoulders and his legs just hooked around Castiel’s hips as the angel land on his knee’s just behind Dean’s thighs, hands planted on either side of the man. Thankfully, a hard beat of his wings had kept Castiel from handing too hard, and Dean helped. Then again, he’d put him in that situation.

Dean showed no guilt though as he was still laughing as he had his hands on Castiel’s shoulders, legs falling against Castiel’s outer thighs.

Castiel narrowed his gaze. “This is funny?” he was clearly not amused.

“Yeah!” Dean chortled, nearly in tears. “Your face, you looked all crazy flailing, it-hehe, it was pretty damn funny!”

Castiel just glared at him, but his brow was softening. The laughter made it very hard to stay so deeply angry and annoyed, though Castiel did try. “Next time, you can warn me before you do something like that.”

“Oh, there’ll be a next time, awesome.” Dean remarked, smirking and faintly still chuckling.

Castiel whacked him with one of his wings again, Dean reaching a hand to run through it before he could pull it away, which only left the wing to stay in place, enjoying the attention. He sighed, wings resting around them as he was still over Dean. “You possess a very strange fascination with my wings, Dean.” He accused.

Dean shrugged his shoulders against the ground, watching how the feathers moved under his touch, how they shined in the light. “Nah. I just really love them.” He looked up at Castiel then, smiling.

Well, of course, most of Castiel’s irritation vanished with that, the warmth in his chest far too powerful to deny. Instead, he just placed a kiss on Dean’s lips, as he wrapped him up in those wings he loved so much.

The wings were still new, but Dean was determined. He would get to know them, that part of Castiel, as deeply as was humanly possible for him. Because they were beautiful, as was the angel they belonged to, and he loved them both.


End file.
